


Milk and Cookies

by Akarri



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Baking, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Domestic Fluff, Family, Family Fluff, Father's Day, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Parental Roy Mustang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 07:47:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19246891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akarri/pseuds/Akarri
Summary: It's Father's Day in Amestris and the Elric brothers have been invited over to the Hughes residence to bake cookies. Ed was already reluctant, but his mood is further ruined when he finds that the fire hazard known as Roy Mustang is also there. Father's Day Oneshot.





	Milk and Cookies

Sunday, June 16th, 1914

Also known as a completely average day, just like every other day on the calendar. There was no historic event or great accomplishment or even any religious tale to make this day stand out above all the rest.

That is what Edward offhandedly insisted every year when it rolled around, anyway.

The only problem was, the rest of the nation disagreed with him and declared the third Sunday of the month to be Father's Day.

Fine, he would say. Let them. Everyone else could run around and celebrate until their heads fell off for all he cared. He certainly had better things to do, and as long as they didn't interfere, it didn't matter.

The only other problem was, Alphonse disagreed with him too.

His dear brother argued that Father's Day was an important occasion for families to appreciate each other and even though the Elric's father was no longer around, it didn't lessen the value of the day itself and everyone else still had the right to enjoy it.

Which was _fine._ But he didn't see why that meant he couldn't just close the curtains and pretend that the whole nation wasn't wasting their time. He didn't see why that meant he had to get dragged across Central to visit a man whom they didn't even know that well all because he impulsively decided to invite them over for the day to _bake cookies._

It was probably one of the least manliest activity Hughes could have suggested, but even with no taste buds, Al jumped at the idea.

And when Alphonse asked something from Ed, he usually got it.

That was why they were currently walking down an apartment building hallway, eyeing the room numbers as they went. When they finally reached the end of the hall, Alphonse lightly tapped his gauntlet against the smooth wood of the door and the two Elric's stood back to wait.

"Cheer up, Brother," Al began after one look at Ed's expression. "It'll be fun. At least try to enjoy yourself."

He quickly wiped the subtle frown from his face and managed a smile. "Yeah," he replied tersely, swearing to himself for not the first time that day that he would not let his opinion of the holiday damper his mood. He knew Alphonse just wanted to do something normal and laid back for a change, and Ed wasn't about to be a bad big brother and interfere with his good time.

Besides, it was just the lieutenant colonel, Gracia, and their daughter, Elicia, all making cookies. While he would much rather continue researching the Philosopher's Stone, how bad could it be?

Maes Hughes opened the door with a wide grin already plastered on his face. It was somewhat strange to see the military man in casual clothing, but the long white apron with rows of stitched flowers tracing every seam was much more distracting.

"Hello boys, glad you could make it," he greeted and held the door open for them as he moved out of the way.

"Thank you for inviting us, Mr. Hughes," Alphonse replied amiably as he stepped inside the apartment, Edward following close behind.

"It's my pleasure! And you know what they say: the more the merrier," he replied and laughed cheerfully as he led them down a hall which most likely led into the kitchen. "Gracia has gone shopping for dinner, so we're going to get started on the cookies. It was Elicia's idea; isn't she just the cutest?"

Thankfully, Ed was able to leave the conversing to his brother for a moment. He peered past the bulking suit of armor in front of him as they followed Hughes through his home, and saw Elicia sitting at the end of what was probably a full sized table in the room that was at a far end of the hall. She was kicking her feet distractedly as she looked down at a cook book that was twice her size, seemingly reading out loud. It wasn't until the three entered the kitchen did he realize she was listing off her favorite types of cookies.

Hughes stepped to the side of the kitchen, allowing the two brothers to make themselves comfortable. As soon as Alphonse was no longer obscuring the majority of his view, Edward was preparing himself for a cheerful hello from Elicia. She noticed the newcomers presence and opened her mouth in a large smile to exclaim something, but she was interrupted as soon as Ed's eyes traveled a little further down the table.

At the other end was none other than the Flame Alchemist himself with his arms folded casually, leaning back in the chair as if he owned it.

As they walked in, Mustang's dark eyes immediately fell on Hughes, then Alphonse, then Edward, then back on Hughes.

In unison, they both sat/stood slightly straighter and yelled "What the hell is _he_ doing here?!"

"Oh? Did I forget to tell you?" Hughes asked lightly, giving both alchemists an extremely unapologetic glance as he failed to hide the sheer amusement in his eyes. "So sorry about the mix-up. But since we're all here, we might as well get started."

Alphonse would have been holding his breath if he was capable of it, looking as if he expected either Ed or Mustang or both to combust at any moment.

Meanwhile, Elicia was watching the show and giggling at their antics.

"What? No way," Ed snapped as he sent the colonel a withering glare. "I already get enough of this guy at the office."

"When you bother to show up, you mean," Mustang replied without missing a beat.

"Maybe I'd show up more often if you weren't such a ba-" His insult was cut short when a firm hand landed on his shoulder and Hughes whisked him across the kitchen and over to the seated colonel, who also received a hand on the shoulder.

Suddenly feeling secluded from the witnesses, Edward and Mustang glanced at each other, then to Hughes, who was smiling at them both in a fashion that the blond found to be unnerving.

"I'd appreciate it if you two wouldn't taint my sweet daughter's innocent ears with your foul language. If she wants to bake cookies with me, Uncle Roy, her big brothers Ed and Al, then that's exactly what we're going to do. So play nice, alright?"

Edward was sure he was seeing things at first, but a second glance proved that even Mustang was surprised by the baleful grin that was taking up his friend's visage. The two alchemists sent each other another glance, tacitly agreeing to do just as they were told and _play nice,_ all while making a mental note to not mess with the man's family.

Seeming to understand their silent communication, Hughes straightened up and clapped his hands together, as if he was inwardly congratulating himself on a job well done.

"Great! Elicia dear, have you picked a recipe?"

"Yep!" She slid off the chair and reached up to the table to drag the large cook book down with her, nearly dropping it in the process. The girl then bounded over to her father and cheerfully presented the book to him, gesturing to one of the pages with an excited smile. Hughes bent down and accepted the book from her and studied the page for a moment, sweeping his eyes over the text.

"Classic chocolate chip," he mused. "Sounds good. Does everyone else agree?"

A chorus of agreement filled the room, each voice with varying levels of enthusiasm. The lieutenant colonel set the book on the table and eyed each of the kitchen's occupants. "Alright! First thing's first: Alphonse, could you get the flower in the cupboard behind you? And Ed, there's a large bowl in in the cabinet by your feet."

"What should I do, Daddy?" Elicia asked eagerly, curling her small fists in anticipation.

"Could you go into the pantry and get the chocolate chips?" he asked softly, smiling as she bounced off to fulfill the request.

"You seem to have everything taken care of," Mustang commented from his spot at the table. "I'll just watch."

"Oh, no you don't," Hughes replied easily as he opened the refrigerator and began shifting inside. "You're not getting out of this that easily."

"Isn't five people a little much just to make cookies?"

"Nope. Heads up."

Mustang straightened up from his disinterested slouching as two eggs were tossed into the air, aiming straight for him. He just narrowly managed to catch them without allowing egg yoke to splatter across the floor. The colonel rose to his feet and glared as Edward snickered at his expense. Meanwhile, Alphonse and Hughes continued to collect the needed ingredients, receiving help from the energetic Elicia whenever the next ingredient wasn't too high up for her to retrieve.

Orders were given out one after another, as Maes appeared to be the one person present who was actually familiar with how to make cookies. Ed was prepared to bet that Mustang was hopeless when it came to cooking his own food in general, and the Elrics have not had much time for baking their own treats as of late.

He had vague memories of making brownies and such with Mom many years ago. As well as helping Winry bake every now and again. But back then, Edward only did as the recipe said without putting much thought into the entire process as a whole. As a result, he had forgotten all of it. Alphonse, on the other hand, seemed to know what he was doing but still waited for Hughes to give out instructions. But then again, he always had a knack for this sort of thing even while being incapable of enjoying whatever he created.

However, Edward certainly wasn't incompetent, even in comparison. It was easy to compare activities such as cooking and baking to alchemy; it was all about having the correct measurements and balance between ingredients.

When he was carefully measuring cups of sugar, ensuring that it was as accurate as physically possible, Al made some offhanded comment about how it looked like he was having a good time. For whatever reason, Ed's first thought was to stubbornly deny it, but he ultimately just stayed quiet.

Edward looked across the kitchen, scanning over the chaos as people walked back and forth through the room that was just a _little_ too small for them all. The bag of flour was spilled earlier but it was decided that all cleaning would be left to the end, so white footprints littered the floor. No one seemed to mind.

During his examination, Mustang briefly caught his eye as he just finished whisking the eggs. Now that he began to consider it, Ed decided that it was extremely weird to see him in casual clothing; even more so than Hughes. At least the lieutenant colonel seemed like the type of person who obvious had a life outside of work. The same couldn't necessarily be said for the other state alchemist, who he simply couldn't imagine wearing something besides a blue uniform.

Despite his staring, the colonel paid no mind to the blond, far too distracted by Elicia, who apparently wanted a turn to stir. Mustang handed the bowl over with a small, awkward smile as he said something that was lost to Ed within the clatter of the active kitchen. With a roll of the eyes, the turned back to his own work.

"Alright, it looks like everything is done," Hughes said several minutes later as he looked over the results. Two separate bowls filled with their own mix of ingredients were waiting to be combined, which he did.

"Who wants to stir the dough?"

"I do, I do!" Elicia exclaimed immediately with her arms raised enthusiastically in the air. Her father handed her the large bowl, which she could barely hold up with his short arms as she moved to sit at the table and sloppily stir the dough with the long wooden spoon. That just left Ed, Al, Hughes, and Mustang standing around the kitchen to wait.

As he looked around, he caught Mustang's eyes on him for a moment. Edward was quick to glare in response, to which the colonel only scoffed and turned his gaze away from the blond. He looked mildly irritated, but Ed preferred it that way. When the flame alchemist wasn't irritated, he was arrogant and smug and annoying.

Ed hadn't realized that his silent interaction with the man did not go unnoticed until Alphonse spoke up in an attempt to draw attention away from it.

"So do you always do this for Father's Day, Mr. Hughes?"

Hughes, who had just finished washing the flour off of his hands in the sink, looked over his shoulder, then turned to lean back on the counter top as he picked up a rag. "We do something different every year. Last year, we went out to a nice restaurant but Gracia decided she wanted to cook something special, and Elicia wanted to bake cookies for me." His natural, content smile grew into an overjoyed grin as he spoke, eyes shining. "My girls are the best, aren't they? They're both so sweet and beautiful and-"

"You're one lucky guy, Maes," Mustang cut in before the rant could continue with a levelheaded tolerance that could only come from someone with years of patient experience.

"I know!" he giggled and clapped his hands together as he looked down at his daughter, who was still focusing on stirring. Her tongue was sticking out in concentration as she rested the bowl in her lap, slowly maneuvering the spoon in large circles, appearing to be struggling against the thickening consistency of the dough.

Eventually, the girl shuffled off of the chair and approached the closest person to her, which just so happened to be Mustang. Shamelessly, she rose the bowl up towards him.

"I'm tired of stirring," she said, now standing on her toes to better present the bowl to him. With only a moment of hesitation, the uncertain colonel took the bowl and she wasted no time to bound back over to the table to dig her hand into the bag of defenseless chocolate chips.

With a mute huff, Mustang leaned back against the counter top and began to continue stirring the dough, pointedly avoiding Edward's amused sneering. Even he wasn't too sure what was so funny about it, but the alchemist seemed to be somewhat upset, so that meant it was enough to give Ed at least a small amount of amusement at his boss' expense.

At least it was able to momentarily distracted him from just how incredibly _weird_ it was to see Colonel Bastard stirring cookie dough. But as odd as the situation was, over thinking it would only make the entire thing more uncomfortable.

Moving right along, Hughes brought out a large baking pain and set on the counter. Elicia jumped back in once they began to add the chocolate chips and shape the dough into individual clumps lined up in straight rows on the pan. Within a few short minutes, the first batch was in the oven and the timer was ticking back.

"And now we wait," Hughes said with a satisfied smile as he idly wiped his hands on his flowery apron. He then proceeded to usher everyone into the living room until the timer would finish. It briefly occurred to Ed that that would have been an ideal time to begin cleaning, but he wasn't about to complain that it was being left for later.

On their way down the hall, Elicia announced that she wanted to be the one to take the pan out of the oven once the timer went off. Hughes tried to let her down gently and say that perhaps someone else should do it, such as one of the Elrics, but she did not yet seem convinced. Either way, the matter was dropped for the time being.

The other room was furnished with two large sofas facing each other with a coffee table in between. Various colorful toys were in the corners of the room and an assortment of games and puzzles were stacked up neatly underneath the table. As Ed took his seat besides his brother, he spared a moment to wonder how often those boxes of games were opened. In such a well functioning family as this one, he assumed it was quite often.

He hastily squished the faint sense of longing that threatened to take form and focused his attention back on the present. The others had sat around the centerpiece as well while Elicia entertained herself by setting up a few toys nearby, paying no mind to the adult's conversation.

"I'm glad all of you were able to come," Hughes suddenly said, casting a glance to his friend, and then the Elric brothers. "I know Father's Day must seem irreverent to you, but it's a day to be spent with family."

"Yeah," Mustang replied after a beat, exuding something that was very different then the ever present confidence that always surrounded him. "Thanks for the invite."

It was honestly difficult to tell whether or not he actually meant that. One would assume he did, but the mild sense of awkward uncertainty that seemed to follow him when it came to being earnest made it more difficult to know for sure.

Edward almost wanted to laugh at his mediocre reply, until he remembered that the sentiment was directed towards him as well, and he had no idea how to respond. From the sound of it, Hughes was implying that they were all apart of the family. It was a nice thought, but Ed was well aware that he couldn't have actually meant it. Not in comparison to his own actual family, anyway. Besides, he hadn't even known the two brothers all that long.

But regardless, he was saved from having to muster up a reply by Alphonse.

"It's our pleasure," the suit of armor replied cheerfully. "Being able to do things like this is a nice change of pace." Ed settled for nodding in agreement.

While the others continued to talk, the blond began to tone out as soon as something was said to trigger Hughes into another rant about the perfection of his wife and daughter. After a few minutes, he began to wonder what was taking the timer so long to go off. With one look at the others, none of which were looking at him, Edward decided to get up and check to see how much longer it would take, if only to cure his own curiosity.

That, and they smelled really good and he may or may not have been getting slightly eager to try one.

He quickly told Alphonse that he would be right back when his brother inquired, then slipped back down the hall and into the kitchen. After one look at the flour-covered floor and the messy counter tops, Edward clicked his tongue and turned to the oven, looking through the dimmed window at the cookies, and then at the timer.

Ed must have had magic cookie senses, because as soon as his eyes fell on the timer, it began to ring. The shrill chime filled the apartment for only a moment before the teenager got tired of it and switched it off, having completed it's objective.

Since he was already there, he figured he might as well make himself useful and remove the pan from the oven. He looked down at the oven mitts that sat on the counter before shrugging and opening the door without moving to grab them. This was a prime opportunity to take advantage of having automail.

He pulled the door open and crouched down, squinting his eyes as broiling hot air greeted him when he tentatively slid his right arm inside. It occurred to him for a brief moment that it might be a bad idea, but assumed nothing too terrible could happen in the fraction of a second it would take to grab the cookies.

The metal hand gripped the edge of the pan and he swiftly began to slide it out. It was almost surreal to see himself grasp something that was so obviously hot, despite having grown used to the automail long ago.

While Edward straightened up and concentrated on keeping the cookie pan upright with one hand as he simultaneous closed the oven door, he failed to notice the light footsteps tearing down the hall. In the very same moment that he lifted the pan, Elicia appeared around the corner and was given no time to notice his presence before barreling into him.

Taken off guard, a gasp slipped past his lips as he stared wide-eyed at the child who was trying to reclaim her balance, then at the pan in his hand. Almost as if in slow motion, Ed watched as it began to slide out of his grip, the burning metal aimed to fall on her unsuspecting head.

The blond kicked himself into action and quickly brought his other hand up to help support the baking pan before it could fall, paying no mind to the heat as his priorities stacked themselves in his mind.

As soon as his skin made contact, a sharp, fiery pain shot up his arm and seared his hand, setting off blaring alarms off in his head as his nerves screamed. Before it could get any worse, Edward stepped around the stunned Elicia and roughly dropped the pan onto the oven top as his mind spun and his arm quivered, disrupting the perfect alignment of cookies.

"Shit," he spat through his teeth, looking at the reddened skin of his hand.

While he sporadically waved his hand through the air in a fruitless hope to cool it down, he didn't think to look down at the girl until a small sob reached his ears.

Elicia was looking at the blond's injured hand with tears in her eyes and guilt consuming her expression. She stuttered to say something, but when their eyes met, she immediately turned and fled down the hall, crying as she went. Ed only stared at where she stood, mouth gaping awkwardly, making no move to follow.

More footsteps came towards the kitchen until Alphonse and Hughes appeared. Ed allowed his burned hand to drop to his side, deciding to ignore the mild pain to ensure no one would make a big deal out of it.

"What happened?" the lieutenant colonel asked as his olive eyes scanned the room, fell on the cookie pan, then returned to Edward.

"Nothing, I-" he began, staring at the oven simply to avoid eye contact. "I just uh... I got a little burn and I think Elicia blames herself for it. It's not a big deal."

"You got burned?" Al exclaimed, worry lacing his tone.

"Yeah, but it's fine. Doesn't even hurt," he lied as he showed them his hand and carefully flexed his fingers just to prove that he could. If anything, the inflicted area only stung and he would like to put some ice on it, but other than that, it honestly did not feel like anything to concern himself or anyone else with.

Hughes pursed his lip, but only for a second before telling the brothers that he was going to go find Elicia to calm her down.

"You should go too, Al," Ed suggested once the man was gone. "To tell her that I'm not hurt."

He would have gone himself, but he was certain he would only make it worse if he tried to speak to the child, and cooling down his hand felt to be of much greater importance at the moment, but only because the burn grew worse with every passing second. But of course, he wasn't about to admit that.

Alphonse appeared to be conflicted, but eventually nodded. "Okay, I'll be right back," he promised and disappeared around the corner, leaving Edward to himself at last.

As soon as everyone was out of the kitchen, he wasted no time in hurrying over to the refrigerator and sticking his hand into the freezer to grab a few ice cubes. As soon as the frozen ice met with his skin, he let out a sigh, albeit through clenched teeth.

However, Edward was not given enough time to even consider if it was helping or not because Mustang just _had_ to choose that moment to walk into the kitchen.

"What happened with E-" he began, then cut himself off as his sharp eyes landed on Ed. He glanced at the pan, then at the kid's hand, which was obviously clenched around ice cubes and dripped water as they melted.

Without another word, Mustang quickly approached him before he could react and sternly grabbed hold of his wrist.

"Let go of those, you idiot," the man ordered as he shook Ed's wrist once until he released the ice cubes, allowing them to fall onto the floor and shatter.

"Hey, I was using th-"

"Let me see," Mustang commanded, cutting Edward off as he glared down at the kid's clenched fist.

"Mind your own damn business."

The blond was wearing a rather impressive glare, but it steadily began to whither when the colonel drew his eyes away from the burned hand and up to his face.

"Putting ice directly onto burns irritates the skin and makes them worse."

Allowing the glare to fade away, Ed hesitated only for a moment, but ultimately opened his hand, exposing the red, angry skin to the open air. Only when Mustang mutely examined the injury for a number of seconds did the blond remember that of course _he_ would know a thing or two about burns.

"Er... How bad is it?" The increasing pain forced himself to ask as he fought to keep his hand steady, doing all he could to appear strong and endurant.

"Too soon to tell," the colonel said at last, finally releasing his grip from the kid's wrist. "Put it under cool water for now." He began rummaging through the kitchen counters and drawers in search of something.

Ed would have questioned what he was doing, but favored the idea of relieving the growing pain more to care. He hastily turned the sink on and allowed the water to fall on his forearm as he tested to see when it would be cold enough. As he waited, his gaze fell down to the palm of his hand, taking another moment to study it. His finger tips were red, as well as his thumb and the vast majority of his palm. The skin wasn't blistering yet, but he supposed it would take a few minutes for that to happen, if it was going to at all.

After what felt like hours, Edward moved his hand below the stream of cool water, allowing it to fall onto the back of his hand and drip down to the burned area, cautious to let the weak spray's full force make contact with the sensitive, raw skin.

Meanwhile, his attention was drawn away when he noticed Mustang quickly walk out of the kitchen. Part of him wondered if the man even planned on returning at all, but didn't have to wait long before an irked looking colonel returned.

"Can't find any medicine for burns or even pain relief; I don't know where Maes keeps it. Tried to ask, but he has his hands full at the moment," the man muttered as he paused and scanned the kitchen contemplatively. He then stepped towards the refrigerator and peered inside.

"... What's plan B?" Edward asked reluctantly. In any other case, he would have continued to insist that the injury he sustained didn't hurt and he was fine and whoever was trying to help was only wasting their time. But in this case, the small burn on his hand slowly began to feel like it would be the death of him. He knew he must have been overreacting, since minor burns like this were not fatal, but _damn_ it sure felt like it was. Even under the spray of the water, his hand was shaking against his control, twitching from the scorching pain that ravaged it.

Mustang wordlessly pulled out a carton of milk from the fridge and set it on the counter, looking as if he had just answered the kid's question. However, all he did was create more questions. Ed stared, shocked into silence, as the colonel dug out a cup from a cupboard and poured the cursed white liquid into it, filling it about half way. He then dropped the cup of milk on the counter.

Nonplussed, he stared at the glass, then up to the colonel with a mix of confusion and disgust. "Is this some sort of joke?" he snapped, irritation rising as the effect of the water began to stagnate.

"Nope," Mustang declared as he folded his arms. "Stick your hand in there."

"Not gonna happen."

"Fullmetal-"

"There is nothing you can say or do to make me put my hand in a cup of cow juice," he announced and leered down at the detestable liquid.

The colonel clicked his tongue and moved to sit down at the nearby table with his arms still folded and legs crossed casually. "Fine by me. There's nothing I need to say or do anyway. But the longer you wait without putting anything on it besides water, the worse it'll feel. But it's up to you." Mustang watched him with a victorious smirk that made Ed want to bite his head off.

He forced his gaze back down to the glass of milk, scowling as he tried to ignore the fact that it was disgusting and focus more on the fact that it could apparently help him.

"How's this going to help anyway?" he muttered reluctantly, refusing to look at the colonel to see his stupid grin widen with the knowledge that he was winning.

"Something about the fat content," he replied with a shrug. "It brings relief to minor burns, as well as quickens the healing process."

Edward simply gave him a dubious look. Did he even know what he was talking about? On second thought, what were the chances that this was all some cruel trick and putting his hand in there would only cause more pain?

But at this point, he began to think that he was willing to risk it. The water no longer had the effect that it once did and if Ed were to be honest with himself, he was getting desperate.

He picked up the cup with his automail and glared at it.

With a reluctant sigh, Edward slowly turned off the sink and slipped his quivering hand into the glass, watching with distaste as the milk almost overflowed. The burn did not feel particularly different, but the cold was admittedly soothing.

"Disgusting."

Mustang sighed and shook his head. "Why do you hate milk anyway?"

Ed drew his eyes away from the cup with a frown in place. "It's unnatural for humans to drink something secreted from a cow. Not to mention that it tastes gross." He wasn't going to mention the part about how it supposedly helps people grow taller, but has done absolutely nothing for him. He would be walking straight into an annoying joke from the colonel, and was not quite in the mood to deal with that.

"I'm surprised you've never heard of this method. It's a common home remedy."

"Yeah, well, I guess I didn't get too many burns as a kid. And when I did, Mom always used medicine or some sort of plant."

"Aloe vera?"

He shrugged.

"Whatever," Edward muttered. "Should of figured that something like this would happen to me on this stupid holiday; just to spite me."

"If it's any consolation, I've never been a fan of Father's Day either," Mustang added with a shrug.

"Since when would _you_ ever try to console me?"

"Don't get used to it."

Edward scoffed and dropped his gaze in thought. As something occurred to him, he looked back up again in contemplation as he watched the alchemist, who also seemed to be thinking about something.

"How come you don't like Father's Day?"

"It's not that I dislike it; I don't have a father, so I never celebrated it- never cared about it. Course, Maes never shuts up about it, but besides that, it was always just another day for me. He would always invite me to stuff like this, but I usually find a way to get out of it."

"Why?"

Mustang glanced at him quietly for a beat, before scoffing under his breath. "Like you're one to talk. You didn't look terribly excited to be here when you walked in either."

"That's different," Ed shot back. "You're his _friend._ "

"So are you and Al."

"Wha- no, we're just..."

"You heard what he said earlier. It may come as to a shock to you, but Maes sees you two as family," the colonel stated easily.

Edward paused, unsure how to respond at first. The first declaration of them being a part of the family was easy to brush off, but the way Mustang spoke gave him no choice but to think that the statement was much more serious than what he originally dared to assume. "Eh- well, regardless; it makes sense why _I_ wouldn't want to come over, but why do you try to get out of it?"

"Doesn't matter."

Edward targeted him with an irritated glare. "You can't just say something like that and then not explain it, you jerk."

Mustang rolled his shoulders and sighed exasperatedly. "Fine," he drawled, staring out into space. "When I spent Father's Day with Maes and his family, that's... when I envy him the most. Happy?"

"You mean, you're jealous of his family?" Edward asked slowly, ignoring the colonel's terse, possibly rhetorical question. He began to wonder if this was the same man who he saw a few days ago in the office at HQ.

"... I suppose you could put it like that," Mustang grumbled reluctantly under his breath.

Ed found himself at a loss for words. He too would occasionally catch himself looking at other families and longing for what they had. He had it once; that sense of wholeness. But since it all fell apart, he did what he could to convince himself that he didn't need it- didn't want it.

And to learn that Mustang of all people was actually in a similar boat...

As a new thought occurred to him, the blond began to feel like he was starting to pry and he should back off, and yet he couldn't keep himself from voicing this one.

"... You said didn't have a dad?"

Mustang looked over to the kid and smiled wryly. Whether it was because he knew what he was thinking, or because he was glad to leave the other topic behind, Ed had no idea.

"You didn't know?" Edward shook his head. "I was raised by my adoptive mother. Both of my parents died when I was young."

"Oh... I guess we have that in common." Ed wasn't sure what possessed him to say that. Thinking it to himself was one thing, but to openly state that he and and Colonel Bastard could both relate to something was a different matter entirely. Perhaps the burn was somehow effecting his brain- ignoring the fact that the pain had decreased drastically, of course.

Mustang only studied him for a moment with that annoying, unreadable expression that he housed so often in place.

"I suppose so."

Edward pursed his lip and placed the glass of milk on the counter again, leaning back on it so he could still face the colonel. Silence passed between them for several seconds until, by what surely had to be a miracle, he decided to continue the conversation.

"Al doesn't remember Hohenheim well enough to know how much of a bastard he was, so he always becomes a little sad when Father's Day rolled around," he muttered, still unsure as to why. "He tries to hide it, but..."

He half expected the man to dismiss his words with some stupid, sarcastic comment. However, Mustang managed to surprise him by remaining silent and even appearing mildly interested in what he was saying.

"But then I went and ruined it," he continued with a another rueful glance at his burned hand soaking in the glass of milk. "I wanted Al to enjoy himself today, but now he's just going to be worrying about me. He always does that. He's..."

"Don't be stupid," the colonel cut in easily. "Nothing has been ruined. If anything, this will just be another story for another day," he said with the slightest of smiles.

If anyone else said that, Ed would have gotten upset. But he supposed the Flame Alchemist knew how these things usually worked out. He just watched the man curiously, once again caught off guard by his response. He considered even pointing out that Mustang wasn't being as much of a bastard as usual, but stopped himself when his dark eyes fell on the cup of milk.

"You should dump that out and refill it when it gets too warm. I'll buy Hughes a new carton later."

Edward followed his gaze down to the glass, deciding that the repulsive liquid needed to be replaced. The burn wasn't particularly hurting, not nearly as much as before anyway, but he certainly would have appreciated to have it in something cold once more.

With detest etched into his features, Ed rose his hand out of the glass, distracted only momentarily by the relieving sensation of the kitchen air further chilling the injury. Moving towards the sink, he dumped out the milk, shook his hand lightly, then refilled the glass with the carton that had been left on the counter. As he did so however, the colonel stood up and walked over to him, silently asking to get another look at the burn.

After a moment to contemplation, the older alchemist nodded and turned back to the table. "Yeah, it's just a first degree burn, as I expected. It should heal completely within a few days."

Edward nodded slowly as he hesitantly returned his hand to the newly refilled cup. His hand felt clammy and smelled weird and he hated it, but at least it didn't hurt as much.

"Chances are," Mustang continued as he sat down again and shifted his weight, "it won't be able to do you any more good, besides keeping the burn cool, but this is better than adding to their water bill."

"Yeah..." Ed began to recall when his mother tended to his injures as a kid once again. Somehow, the very fact that she cared helped to soothe whatever pain he experienced and seemed far more effective than any medicine. But of course, that was only with her and therefor not Mustang, so there was no point in trying to compare the two instances.

Besides, they were entirely different.

Definitely.

But for whatever reason, he idly wondered if Mustang ever had anyone to do that for him. He said he had an adoptive mother, but somehow, the blond was under the impression that his childhood was still very unorthodox.

Regardless, the colonel certainly seemed to know what he was doing. Considering his specialty, it made sense that he would know about every single burn remedy available just in case.

With a sigh, Edward stared at the flour that covered the floor like snow. "Uh... hey, Mustang." When he heard a curious _hmm_ from the man, he awkwardly bit the inside of his cheek, refusing to rise his gaze. "Thanks... For helping, I mean."

The colonel did not reply right away and simply blinked at first. After a moment, another one of his annoying smirks fell into place, although it was admittedly slightly less annoying than usual. "Don't mention it, Shortie," he replied, somehow giving Ed the impression that he actually meant that. Not that he minded, since he had no desire to bring this entire situation up again any time s- _what?_

The frown on his face deeper and he immediately became rigid, glaring daggers at the older alchemist. "Way to ruin it, you ass," he snapped, voice raising out of his control. "I'm not short, damn it!"

Despite the blond's anger, Mustang somehow found it fitting to respond with a light chuckle, but the cynical quality that he so often heard was absent. It occurred to him that that was strange, but he didn't have time to think on it before he heard footsteps echoing down the hall.

The two state alchemists looked over just as Hughes and Alphonse returned to join them, with Elicia following close behind. At the sight of them, Edward shifted awkwardly in a rather pathetic attempt to hide the damnable glass of milk behind him as subtly as possible. Judging by the amused look he received from Mustang, he was willing to bet that his attempts were failing miserably.

"Elicia darling, do you have something to say?" Hughes asked softly as the girl stepped forward, looking at the ground and shifting her feet uncomfortably. She nodded fractionally before bringing gaze up to meet Edward's. Her eyes were still puffy from crying, but she had overall composed herself since then.

"Sorry for bumping into you, Big Brother Ed," she said, worrying the hem of her shirt as her gaze dropped again.

Edward could only gape for a moment, unsure how to respond to a kid less than half his age apologizing to him.

"I- uh- it's alright," he forced himself to say and cracked a grin. "No harm done." In the long run, anyway. There was no need for her to know exactly what happened.

The small frown on Elicia's expression was quickly overpowered by giggles when she saw Ed's face, silently telling every occupant in the room that the matter was now behind them. Meanwhile, Hughes looked like he would be the next to break into tears from the sheer _adorableness_ of his daughter, as he would surely put it.

As if to make it even harder for the man, Elicia then stepped closer to the oven, eyeing the tray of cookies that sat above and grasped for them, but her arms were a few inches too short to so much as brush her fingers against any of them. Edward would have given her what she was after, but his hand was still sitting in a glass of milk and he made a habit of not touching other people's food with the automail hand.

Thankfully, Alphonse found a napkin and picked up one of the cookies with it, handing it all to the eager girl. "Here you go," he said amiable as he did so.

"Thanks, Bigger Big Brother Al!" she cheered as she gratefully took the napkin and cookie and bit into it with a large grin.

Ed mutely squint his eyes at the comment, but said nothing.

"Did the cookies turn out okay?" Hughes asked, the smile evident in his voice.

"Yep!"

As they were speaking, Edward decided that he didn't want to continue doing this. He lifted his hand out of the cup once more and began to let the milk drain down the sink. But as he was doing that, Elicia set her eyes on the beverage and pointed at it eagerly.

"I want some, I want some," she chanted excitedly, putting Ed on pause when she set all eyes on him. He was hoping no one was paying much attention to the glass of milk before, but all hopes of that had just been dashed.

"You don't want any of that, Elicia," Mustang cut in at least and rose to his feet. "Sadly, that glass of milk has already been tainted." There was a smirk in his tone as he fetched a smaller plastic cup for the child and began pouring the intolerable white drink into it.

His statement wasn't exactly incorrect, but when it came to the Flame Alchemist, there was always multiple layers to everything he said. But if that was the case, then Mustang would want Ed to comment on it, thus walking into his trap. If he said nothing at all, then he wins.

_That'll show him..._

When the colonel handed Elicia the new cup of milk, she immediately plopped onto the ground, dipped the cookie into the cup, then took another bite and smiled as if she was in paradise.

As Ed abandoned his glass in the sink, Al stepped closer with an air around him that meant he was amused by something. "Have you been soaking your hand in milk, Brother?" he asked, shamelessly allowing laughter to slip in between his words.

"Wha-" Ed stuttered as he felt himself flush. "No! Eh, well, maybe, but... It doesn't matter!"

"Yeah, okay, Ed." the suit of armor drawled, pointedly unconvinced. "How does the burn feel?" he then asked, looking down at his brother's hand.

"Fine." And he actually meant it this time. The skin was still red and irritated, but it didn't hurt nearly as much anymore. Now that he had freed himself from that disgusting milk, he was almost sure that the pain would slowly begin to return, although maybe not to the extent that it did before. "Mustang decided to not be useless for once," he added to answer the unasked question.

"Well, it seems today is full of surprises," Hughes jumped in after apparently eavesdropping. "I'm amazed you two managed to stay in the same room alone without destroying something."

Mustang shrugged, but thankfully didn't decide to further attack Ed's pride by continuing the topic. "By the way, do you have any burn medicine?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah. One second." With one glance at the blond, the lieutenant colonel disappeared down the hall.

Meanwhile, Elicia rose to her foot feet and slid the napkin and nearly empty cup onto the counter. Just as it looked like she was going to reach for another cookie, Hughes returned with a small bottle of something and handed it to the blond before clasping his hands together.

"We still have enough dough for a few more batches. Is everyone ready to continue?"

Again, he was met with several voices, all in agreement with each other. But as they prepared, Ed shuffled over to the side to deal with his burn wound again. Somehow, even with a burned hand, the idea of continuing had the power to bring a small smile to his face, although he wasn't exactly sure why. Before they even arrived, he wasn't looking forward to it, and that reluctance only increased when he learned the colonel was there as well.

But between then and now, something had changed. He didn't know what and he didn't think he wanted to put too much thought into it anyway. Perhaps it had something to do with the realization that Mustang wasn't _always_ a useless bastard, but then again, maybe this was a one time thing and he would be fooling himself if he chose to believe it. But either way, Edward decided that he might as well try to get the most out of Father's Day while he still could.


End file.
